Run for the Shire, Frodo
by KjAnDcooL
Summary: 'Wes opened his eyes and glared absolute daggers at Blaine – David did the same. If looks could kill, Blaine would surely be a walking miracle.  CRASH.  Then again, if Kurt found him it wouldn't matter. He'd be a dead man anyway.' Pranked!Kurt :
1. Chapter 1

**so...yay :) second fic, considerably more light hearted than my first :P i'm toying with the idea of adding another chapter to this, so if you like it enough to want the second one, let me know :)  
>special thanks to 1gleefan, the only person who reviewed my first fic and gave me the confidence to post this one x much love 3<br>i completely forgot about this for my one-shot, but i think its pretty obvious -  
>DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING (and sadly never will :() enjoy ;)<strong>

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><p>'HIDE ME!'<p>

The door to Wes and David's shared dorm erupted open suddenly and loudly, spilling a small, dark haired figure into the room. The boys paid no attention to Blaine Anderson as he proceeded to throw himself under one of their beds, giggling uncontrollably as he wriggled his slightly less-than-average size into the narrow space. Wes and David were far too familiar with their lead Warblers antics, and so didn't bother to react to the situation; choosing instead to continue with their much more interesting video game.

That is, until they heard what could only be described as thunderous footfalls approaching. Fast. They glanced uneasily at each other as the sound of a door down the hall crashing open echoed through the walls.

'YOU HAD BETTER GET YOUR SHORT HOBBIT ASS OUT HERE NOW, FRODO!'

The glance quickly morphed into looks of wide eyed fear as they recognized the voice. Both Wes and David remained frozen for a split second, then simultaneously scrambled up from the floor and ran towards the closest bed.

The inhabitants of every dorm in the immediate vicinity were undoubtedly doing the same.

No one was safe from the wrath of Kurt Hummel. The boys estimated that Kurt was currently in Blaine's room (from the direction the banging noises and yells were coming from), and so knew they didn't have much time before Kurt was upon them. Skidding and stumbling across the floor, the boys reached the bed and practically dived under it, joining the body that was already there. From their place on the floor, the three Warblers had a clear view of the dorm room entrance across the room; their hiding place concealed by a throw partially obscuring their view, but not blocking it.

The compact body beside David shifted, and the council member turned his head toward Blaine, having forgotten he was there in his moment of blind panic.

'What did you _do_?' he hissed, more concerned with his own safety than that of Blaines. The soloist giggled, but this time a little guiltily. He opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by another piercing screech from down the hall;

'YOU CAN'T HIDE IN THE SHIRE! BLAINE WARBLER, _SHOW YOURSELF_!'

The look of twinkling amusement in the hobbit-in-questions eyes flickered momentarily, slight traces of worry glimmering through.

'I…' Blaine trailed off as another resounding BANG shook the floor. Now looking positively terrified, he continued in a shaky voice, 'I may have switched out his moisturizer.' He shifted nervously and refused to meet the other boys' incredulous gazes.

Both Wes and David's hearts sank, deeply. This could not end well.

Wes closed his eyes briefly and wriggled a hand up towards his face in the limited space, pinching the bridge of his nose.

'And what, exactly, did you switch his moisturizer out _with_?' he whispered, exasperation and fear prominent as his voice hitched slightly on the last word.

Silence.

Wes opened his eyes and glared absolute daggers at Blaine – David did the same. If looks could kill, Blaine would surely be a walking miracle.

CRASH.

Then again, if Kurt found him it wouldn't matter. He'd be a dead man anyway.

'_Blaine_,' David implored. He had no desire what so ever to die an early death, and there was still the smallest chance they could fix this if they were fast.

Suddenly, the footfalls continued down the corridor, heading straight for them.

'WESLEY MONTGOMMERY, IF YOU ARE HIDING BLAINE IN THAT STY YOU CALL A ROOM I WILL PERSONALLY BURN YOUR GAVEL!'

Granted, it was a very small chance, but they were desperate.

The angry stomps got louder and ever closer. The boys could practically hear Kurt fuming under his breath.

'Blaine, tell us now!' David panicked, attempting to wriggle further into the sanctuary of the under-the-bed-space.

'DAVID HUME, IF YOU ARE THERE YOU CAN EXPECT PAIN AND HUMMILIATION! I HAVE NO PROBLEM WITH TELLING YOUR GIRLFRIEND THAT YOU JUST PRETEND TO LISTEN IN ORDER TO GET INTO HER PANTS!'

David noticeably paled; which was impressive considering the dark colour of his skin.

'Blaine, there's too much at stake!' Wes whispered frantically, his eyes wide at the thought of harm befalling his precious gavel. 'You have to tell us what you switched it out for!'

Blaine turned his huge, panic and fear filled hazel eyes toward the Asian. He opened his mouth to speak, squeaked slightly, then tried again. His voice was soft, quiet, and that reminiscent of a man headed to the gallows if the next word out of his mouth was anything to go by.

They were dead.

The whisper hung in the air as the furious, towering figure of Kurt Hummel blazed through the door - his blue eyes alight with fire.

'Marco…..come on Blaine, I know how much you love that game…'

The three figures under the bed trembled as the deathly calm, sinisterly playful voice filtered through the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Three sets of wide eyes remained fixed on the figure looming in the doorway.

Blaine very carefully, being sure not to make a sound, slid further to his right behind the bed throw. There was absolutely _no way_ he was getting found by Kurt. Not if he had anything to do with it.

Their hearts hammered against the floor as they watched Kurt move further into the room, his bright eyes narrowed dangerously. Wes went so far as to press a hand against his mouth, muffling the tense, panting breaths escaping. David remained vigilant, tracking Kurt's every move; waiting for his chance.

The countertenor surveyed the dorm – taking in the abandoned video game, discarded controllers, and belongings scattered haphazardly over the floor. His delicate nose wrinkled at the state of the room as he gingerly shifted what looked like dirty laundry out of his path with his toe. He hated mess.

His path clear, he moved towards the closet on his right, which's door was slightly agar.

'Blaine? Are you in there? You can come out, you know. I just want to talk….' His voice was sickly sweet, his words dripping with silent promise as he flung the door wide.

Blaine didn't believe a single word.

He had to muffle a sharp hiss as an elbow connected with his side. He turned his head toward David slowly, his features arranged in an 'are you crazy!' expression. David widened his eyes meaningfully at the soloist, nodding his head toward Kurt who continued to prowl the room; a frown on his face upon finding the closet empty.

Blaine's brow furrowed in confusion. He mouthed a silent 'what?' at David, watching again as the council member repeated his previous action – this time raising his eyebrows high up his forehead. Blaine opened his mouth once more, but cut off his own silent question with a quick breath and scared eyes as he understood. He shook his head vehemently, categorically refusing to do as his friend indicated.

He understood the whole 'a captain goes down with his ship' philosophy, but had no intention what so ever to give himself up to Kurt. Compared to what he was sure was waiting for him, he'd take the sinking ship any day.

David seemed to read his mind. He gave him a 'don't be a baby' look, accompanied by another jab to side. Blaine retaliated by returning the look with a mute 'don't be ridiculous, even Iron in his suite wouldn't face that' and caught Davids fingers, twisting them away from his ribs. David fought for his fingers back, and the boys continued their silent scuffle as Kurt searched under the desk and behind the door.

However, both froze as Kurt straightened up from glancing behind the book case, an expression likely to that of 'Eureka!' on his face.

Oh no.

Nonononononononononono.

_No._

Kurt slowly turned towards the bed.

He advanced across the room at a painfully leisurely pace, swinging his arms smugly at his sides.

All three Warblers instinctively huddled closer together, grabbing onto each other and squeezing their eyes shut as they prepared to meet their fate.

A shadow fell across the floor in front of them. Feet clad in Oxfords stopped directly in front of Wes, making the teen go cross eyed at their proximity as a light sweat broke out across his forehead.

Blaine kept his eyes scrunched tight; sensing rather then seeing the presence above them.

He always knew he was going to die young.

Just as Blaine resigned himself to capture, the presence left, moving toward the en suit bathroom door in the wall adjacent to the bed. The boys heard the sharp sound of the light flicking on, sounding like a gun shot in the tense silence. Leather-encased footsteps echoed on the tiles; they all winced at the sound of the large airing cupboard being opened roughly.

Blaine and Wes were reeling in the aftermath of their close shave, huffing quiet sighs of disbelieving relief.

What now?

As soon as Kurt was finished in the bathroom, he would surly return to the room. Then it was only a matter of time before his pale, revenge-seeking face appeared in the gap between the bed frame and the floor.

Yes, the boys were doomed.

And they hadn't even gotten to perform at regionals.

Blaine turned to share a mournful, comradely look with David, but stopped when he saw the dark-skinned boys face. It was set and determined, his lips pressed together with a purpose.

He had a plan.

Yes!

There was hope after all!

The small teen nearly laughed in giddy relief; he knew there was a reason he liked David. He opened his mouth to enquire about his comrades scheme, but it remained hanging open, this time in shock, as David bolted up from the floor and ran lightly and agilely across the room. His lithe footsteps dodged the mess easily as he sprinted out the door.

He didn't look back once.

Blaine stared after him in shock.

That traitor.

He knew there was a reason he hated him.

Wes blanched, not believing the audacity of his supposed best friend. If he survived Kurts wrath, there would be hell to pay for that particular Warbler - preferably delivered by a wooden Gavel.

Both fuming boys jumped as the shower curtain was ripped open roughly, Kurts voice following the sound;

'Blaine. You have until the count of three. If you do not show yourself when I have finished, you WILL pay the consequences.'

His speech was still eerily calm. It was nothing short of terrifying.

Blaine and Wes looked at each other. They kept eye contact as Kurt began to count.

'One.'

Barely perceptively, Blaine nodded his head. The boy's eyes never left each others'.

They knew what they had to do.

'Two.'

Kurts clipped tone was getting more and more aggravated. It was now or never.

'Three!'

The boys leapt up from their hiding place, running frenzied to the sanctuary of the corridor. Wes got in front of Blaine, but Blaine quickly pulled the boy aside, throwing him off balance. They tripped and stumbled across the dorm as Kurt erupted from the bathroom, screaming once more –

'BLAINE ANDERSON YOU HAD BETTER GET BACK HERE! DON'T MAKE ME COME AFTER YOU!'

Kurt ran after the boys, grabbing up an object off of the floor as he did so.

Blaine heard Kurts approach and his flight faltered in panic. Wes dodged in front of him and made a beeline for the door. He barrelled through it, his slightly hysterical shout of triumph echoing behind him as he reached safety.

Blaines heart swelled at the sound.

He was going to make it!

He was going to-

Blaines knees buckled under him a shoe connected hard with the back of his legs.

He went down hard, his distraught, defeated shout of 'NOOOOOOO!' reaching the ears of the other Dalton boys gathered at the tantalisingly close doorway, out of sight and danger.

Blaine barely had time to register the hard smack of the wood against his front before he was being flipped over roughly and a slim body was straddling his legs, holding him in place.

Blaine struggled, but his efforts were futile. Kurt had him. And boy, did the transfer student know it.

A satisfied, heart stopping, _evil _grin spread over his face as it loomed over Blaines.

It was accompanied by the faint, curious smell of strawberry yoghurt.

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><p><strong>i hope you enjoyed that :) i hadn't planned on it being ready until the weekend, but oh well. i'm sure you don't mind it's early :P<br>a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed, alerted, favorited ect x it really means a lot XD  
>review if you liked?<br>Kj xx **


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